Silk & Satin
by sadtomato
Summary: Edward's afraid to reveal his love of lingerie to his new boyfriend, but he's forced to confront the truth when Carlisle finds his panty drawer. Will Carlisle be into it or will he GTFO?  Slash. Lemons. Panties.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Edward's afraid to reveal his love of lingerie to his new boyfriend, but he's forced to confront the truth when Carlisle finds his panty drawer. Will Carlisle be into it or will he GTFO?**

**Warning: This is SLASH. If you are offended by hot gay sex or boys in pink panties, please stop reading. :)**

**Disclaimer: This has nothing to do with Twilight. Seriously, people, come on.**

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><p><strong>This is for emilyg80 and luvrofink, fabulous authors and dear friends, who independently asked for Edward in women's lingerie within days of each other. Ask and ye shall receive. Thanks to SuperKannen for editing!<strong>

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><p>"It's late," Carlisle says, stroking my back as I lie against his chest. "I should probably go." He's right, it is late, but I don't want him to go. He's so warm and comfortable, strong and manly beneath me. I don't move.<p>

"Or you could _not_ go," I suggest, trying to keep my tone light. I trace a figure eight on his bicep, his skin cool and taut.

"But if I don't go, then I'd be... _staying the night_," he says teasingly, whispering the words like a dirty little secret. We've been seeing each other casually for weeks now, keeping things light-no big commitments, no sleepovers, just some nice dinners and hot sex. Things are progressing, though, and I kind of want to see what it's like to fall asleep with him. Wake up with him. Be myself with him.

"I think I'd like that," I mumble, burying my face in his chest. The coarse, golden hair tickles my cheek while his chest vibrates from the sound of his laughter.

"Me too," he says. I lift my head up to look at him, and he's smiling that serene, knowing smile that I first found so attractive. He's a friend of a friend, someone I've always been aware of but never really spent any time with. I didn't really notice him until Emily's birthday party last month... and I guess he noticed me then, too. We've been seeing each other more and more ever since.

"It's gonna get cold, though," he says. "Can I borrow something to sleep in?"

"Sure," I tell him, hopping out of bed. I definitely don't want him going through my drawers. Not yet, not at this stage of the relationship. I have some things in my dresser that some gay men find odd, some find repulsive, and only a handful (of the guys I've dated, at least) find sexy. I open the third drawer from the top and pull out a t-shirt and some flannel pants, tossing them in his direction. "This should fit you. I'll be right back."

I slip into the bathroom to clean up a little and pee-I can hear Carlisle moving around and getting dressed. I'm a little sore, but it's not bad. It's more of that delicious kind of sore that reminds you of all the fun you've been having.

"E? This t-shirt is a little tight. I'm just gonna grab-" he says, and I wince at the sound of a drawer sliding open. _Please be the pajama drawer_, I pray. _Please, don't let him be in my panty drawer._

I hear the drawer close. His throat clear. Another drawer opens. "Another t-shirt?" he squeaks, finishing his question a bit too late. Fuck. Me.

He's seen. He knows. He's either going to make an excuse and leave now, or slip out in the middle of the night. Or maybe, since he seems like a really decent guy, he'll stay until morning. Kiss me on the cheek and leave after breakfast, promising to call even though we both know he won't.

"Yeah," I call, my voice wavering. I really liked him.

I wish I could just explain. That I'm not a cross-dresser, not transgender, not harboring a secret, straight relationship. I wish I could just tell him that the pretty scraps of silk and lace feel amazing against my skin, and that I like the way my legs look in a pair of stockings.

That I get a secret thrill from wearing a silky camisole under an oxford shirt.

That wearing a garter belt under my suit at a big contract negotiation makes me feel even more powerful and confident.

But it's so awkward, and he won't understand, and I'll be too embarrassed.

I take extra time brushing my teeth and washing my face, hoping maybe he'll fall asleep before I go back to bed.

Eventually I'm out of things to do in the bathroom though, and I tiptoe back into the bedroom. He's not sleeping, he's leaning back against my pillows and smiling shyly at me. He holds his arms open for me, and his smile... it just gets bigger and brighter. Like it always does.

Overwhelmed with the thought that he still wants me, I hurry back to bed and crawl in next to him. He wraps me up in a tight hug, kissing me just under my ear and pulling the covers over both of us.

I start to think that maybe he didn't see. Maybe he opened a _different_ wrong drawer, and was surprised at all of my ratty University of Chicago sweatshirts or something.

"Edward?" he asks, slipping one hand under my t-shirt. He grips my side tightly, his thumb stroking me just at the spot where the bottom edge of my red lace corset would lie.

"Hmm?" I ask, humming into his shoulder.

"What's with all the lingerie?" he asks.

My heart drops. My mind is going a million miles a minute, trying to come up with excuses. Trying to anticipate what he's thinking and how he'll respond to what I'm thinking.

"Breathe, Edward," he says, chuckling. And suddenly it's that easy. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, shuddering against him as he holds me tighter.

"Does it freak you out?" I ask.

"Should it?" he replies. "Tell me about it," he pleads, squeezing my shoulders. I take another deep breath, weighing my options. I could lie, or pretend it's not important. I'm a lawyer-a fucking fantastic lawyer-and I can get out of this if I want to.

But wasn't I _just_ thinking about how much I want Carlisle to really know me?

And if I put off telling him about my kinkier side, it could just lead to drama down the road.

Or maybe if I tell him now, and he's okay with it, I won't have to worry about what happens when he finds out.

"It started out as a joke," I whisper, relaxing into his arms once I start talking. "In college, my roommate Jake had a girlfriend who would strut around in lingerie all the time. That's when I knew for sure I was gay, because she didn't do anything for me."

Carlisle laughs again but doesn't interrupt.

"One day we were drunk, me and Jake and a couple of guys from the baseball team. I went to the bathroom and all of Bella's silky lingerie was draped over the shower curtain rod. I just thought it would be funny, for some reason, so I put on a pair of panties and a bra over my clothes. I walked through the apartment like that and everyone laughed-Jake wasn't really pissed or anything but he said just to keep the ones I'd worn. He said he could never look at Bella in them the same way again."

Carlisle's still holding me, still stroking that little bit of skin under the hem of my t-shirt.

"I threw them on the floor and tried to forget about them, you know? Except... I was kind of curious about what it would feel like to really wear them. Un-under my clothes," I admit, my breath hitching a little. "Then, um, a few days later, I was out of clean underwear to wear to class... I didn't want to go commando because it was really fucking cold that day. So I put on Bella's panties."

I pause, waiting for Carlisle to interject or to tease. He doesn't say anything, just presses his lips to my cheek.

"I guess it started there... and soon I was wearing them pretty often, under my regular clothes. I bought some more... like ordered them online. And I branched out to, um, other types of fabrics and um, pieces. It's just something I've always enjoyed," I admit, turning my head to look up into his eyes. I'm expecting judgement, or at the worst, repulsion. But he just cocks his head at me and calmly asks me questions.

"So do you dress in drag?" he asks, his brow furrowed.

"No!" I reply, a little too emphatically. "I mean, it's fine for some people, but I don't want to look like a woman. I just like... I guess I like that it's a secret. And I like the way it feels."

"The way what feels?" he asks, his tone questioning but not skeptical.

"Silk. Lace. Satin. All of it," I admit.

"And you wear it under your clothes?"

"Sometimes. Not every day. Not to play soccer in the park with the guys, and not on dates or anything. Just sometimes when I'm alone running errands... or underneath a suit at work," I tell him. I can feel my ears turning red as I flush with embarrassment, revealing a secret I've only ever told a few people in my life. "So does it?" I ask again.

"Does it what?" he says, confused.

"Freak you out," I reply. My body is tense, waiting for his reaction.

"I'm a little... surprised," he says, choosing his words carefully. "But no, Edward, I'm not freaked out. It'll take more than a panty drawer to send me running for the hills."

"Promise?" I whisper, dropping kisses over his chest. He stills my movement by cupping my face in his hands and pulling it up to his.

"Promise," he answers, kissing me sweetly.

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><p>Two days later, he's back at my place again. We're snuggled up on the couch, watching a stupid, mindless action movie. Well, Carlisle is watching the movie. I'm busy squeezing his thigh, kissing his neck, and otherwise trying to distract him.<p>

"Edward," he finally says, "I'm starting to think you're not enjoying The Fast and the Furious."

"I wouldn't mind if you fucked me fast and furious," I tell him, dragging my lips up over his throat. I end at his chin, peppering it with kisses while he tries to capture my lips with his.

"Damn," he whispers, wrapping an arm around my waist. He urges me up onto his lap, and I straddle him quickly. I give in and let him kiss me, opening my mouth to his. I love that Carlisle likes to kiss. He really, really likes to kiss-to make out, even. He gets me so revved up before he even thinks of taking off a stitch of clothing.

Tonight, though, his hands go straight for my belt buckle. He loosens my belt and unbuttons my pants quickly before sliding a hand under my waistband. He plays with the waistband of my boxer briefs for a minute before pulling away, leaning back a little and looking into my eyes.

"No panties?" he asks, snapping the waistband against my skin.

"Not today," I answer, dropping my head to his shoulder. We haven't re-visited the topic of my panty drawer since the night Carlisle discovered it.

"Hmmm," he says, pulling me closer. He kisses my neck, lightly sucking just above my pulse point. "That's a shame."

I drop down a little, letting my thighs rest against his, and feel his cock straining against mine.

"Is that..." I ask, pushing my embarrassment aside, "something you would want to see?"

He rests a hand on my lower back, pulling me closer.

"It's all I can fucking think about," he whispers, sliding his hand lower to grope my ass through my wool trousers. "Would you do that for me? Let me see this hot ass in your favorite pair of panties?"

My heart is pounding with excitement and a little bit of fear. Wearing lingerie on my own or under an Armani suit makes me feel... powerful. Wearing it in front of another man? Letting him in on my most closely guarded secret? That makes me feel vulnerable and more than a little fucking scared.

Carlisle picks up on my hesitation and rubs my back slowly, talking to me while he presses wet kisses to the side of my neck. "Not tonight," he whispers. "Maybe sometime, though? I want to see you, Edward."

"Sometime," I promise, tilting my head to the side to improve his access to my neck.

"For now I'll settle on getting you out of these," he says, smiling against my neck while he snaps the waistband of my underwear again. I yelp at the sting and hop off of his lap, laughing while I pull him into my bedroom.

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><p>I surprise him a week later.<p>

We're at his place, cooking dinner, and I have a pair of purple satin boyshorts on under my jeans. They're a deep indigo, with black lace trim, and one of my very favorite pairs.

I make it a point to bend at the waist, hoping to flash him a little while I dig through his pots and pans.

He doesn't say anything, but he notices. I can tell as soon as I straighten up and turn around to offer him the skillet he asked for.

I can tell by the lust in his eyes, the way his jaw has dropped a little... and by the bulge growing in his pants. He doesn't say anything, but he does pick up the food he'd just taken out of the refrigerator. He puts it back. He turns off the oven and the burners on his stove.

"Dinner will have to wait," he says, his voice low and breathy with excitement. I can't suppress the shiver that runs down my spine when I see the lust in his eyes. I was planning to tease him all evening, just give him a little glimpse of what I had under my clothes and hope he would be into it.

He's definitely into it.

He launches himself at me, kissing me fiercely, and drags me up the stairs to his bedroom. I claw at the buttons of his shirt, tugging at them ineffectively until he just pulls it up over his head. We leave a trail of clothes behind, up his stairs and down the hallway to his bedroom.

We strip each other down until the only things left to remove are my jeans and my panties.

In the middle of his bedroom floor, Carlisle drops to his knees, naked, and unbuttons my jeans. He tugs them down over my hips, kissing down the tops of my thighs and over my knees as my legs are revealed. He taps my calves, urging me to lift each leg in turn so he can push the fabric away and leave me standing, hard and nearly naked, in just my panties.

I feel a little nervous, despite his enthusiasm. I have to fight the urge to cover myself. But Carlisle looks up at me from his place on the floor, meets my eyes for a solid minute, and smiles at me.

"You like the way this feels?" he finally says, smoothing his hand over the back of my panties. I'm so fucking turned on by the slip of silk against my skin that I can't think, let alone talk. Some kind of affirmative sound comes out, though, because Carlisle keeps moving his hands. Over my ass cheeks, my hips, just barely brushing the front of the garment, distended by my growing erection.

"I didn't know if I'd like it," he says, pulling up the lace at my hip to drop a kiss underneath the silk. "I mean, I knew I didn't have a problem with it, but I didn't know if I'd _like_ it. Seeing this, though? You just look... perfect. So, so sexy," he murmurs, kissing my cock through the strained fabric.

I'm whimpering, shaking, not sure if I can even hold myself up because I'm so fucking aroused. In the past I've been so cautious about what I reveal to my lovers, how I present myself, and I've always felt like I was shielding a part of who I am from the people that were closest to me. Standing in front of Carlisle though, I feel... stripped down. Bare. All because of a piece of fabric, and the trust I feel for the man at my feet.

He hooks a finger into the waistband at the front and drags the silk down over my cock. This is one of my favorite things to do when I'm alone-slide them down slowly, relishing the texture of the silk and the rougher lace of the trim sliding against my skin. Instead of pulling them down all the way, he tucks my panties under my balls, freeing them and my cock for his attention.

It's the best blowjob I've ever had. Carlisle is talented-I knew that already from the times we've been together before-but he's _creative_ too. He cups my balls through the silk while he's trailing kisses down my shaft. His warm, hot mouth covers my head, sucking it in slowly so he can swirl his tongue all around it. With every movement, every push and pull of his mouth, he manipulates the fabric still wrapped around my hips. Sliding his fingers over or underneath, tugging at the lace, twisting and gathering the fabric to move it over my skin in different ways.

"Oh fuck, Carlisle," I moan, cupping his neck to keep him close. "God, you're gonna make me cum so hard." My eyes are closed, my legs shaking, my stomach tightening.

He pulls off for just a second, his hand still working to pump my cock, and takes a deep breath. He says just one word, "Look."

When he drops back down to take my cock in his mouth again, I force myself to open my eyes and look down at him. At his pink lips stretched around my cock, his eyes watering with exertion as he takes me even deeper. At the deep purple fabric cover my hips, the slutty little panties that my man apparently loves. That's all it takes, it's too much for me then, and I cry out once before my cock starts to twitch in Carlisle's mouth.

As soon as he starts swallowing around me, I worry that my legs are going to give out. Carlisle wraps his arm around my thighs, holding me steady as he licks and sucks at my oversensitive cock until I'm completely spent.

"I think I'm gonna pass out," I mumble, dropping down to my knees. Carlisle isn't having it, though, and pulls me close for a kiss. His cock is so hard, pushing into my hip and begging for attention. I wrap my fingers around him, deciding to stroke him until I get my bearings and I can really suck him off or encourage him to fuck me. He's closer than I thought, though, and he's grunting and panting as soon as I flick my thumb over his head.

"Jesus, are you close?" I ask, nibbling at his ear.

"Fuck, yes," he groans, dropping his head to my shoulder.

"Do you wanna fuck me?" I offer, squeezing tighter to bring him some relief.

"Not gonna... not gonna last," he whines, thrusting into my hand.

"Let it go, then, Carlisle. Cum on me," I urge, kissing up his neck to capture his lips again. I scoot closer on my knees, angling myself so that the head of his cock brushes against the cool silk of my panties on every downstroke. It only takes a few more pumps before he's groaning, calling out my name, and spilling out over my hand and my leg.

Later, after we've both cleaned up and crawled into his bed, I feel high. It's the adrenaline rush that comes with sharing something taboo, I think. Or maybe it's just Carlisle, and the way he makes me feel. Either way, I tell him that I'm grateful, that this night was perfect.

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><p>It takes time for me to share everything with him. I have a hard time letting him watch me put lingerie on, for one thing. I don't seem to mind him seeing me wear it, and I'm definitely okay with him taking it off, but that process of choosing something to wear, of slipping it on and arranging it over my body, feels too private.<p>

He tells me he understands, and that he'll wait. That everything I do is sexy, and he doesn't feel deprived.

I've kept to mostly panties and garters, silk stockings but nothing too crazy. I trust Carlisle, but there's still a part of me that whispers that it could become too much for him, that he could get overwhelmed.

He leaves town for a week, for a medical conference, but he calls me every night. We talk about our busy days, and he tells me what he learned at the conference... and eventually we talk about what we're wearing, and how much we miss each other, and how fucking hard we are.

"I have this fantasy, Edward," he rasps, one night while we're listening to each other moan and gasp. I'm wearing a light blue teddy, something so feminine I haven't had the courage to wear it for Carlisle yet. "Of taking you out for lunch or something in a really sexy suit, like one of your Versace ones. And to everyone else, we just look like businessmen... but I know that underneath you're wearing something frilly and lacy."

"Yeah?" I whine, pumping my cock harder. "That's so fucking hot."

"You wanna dress up for me, baby?" he asks, his voice getting lower as he gets closer. "You wanna put on something really pretty and sexy under your clothes and go out with me?"

"Yes!" I cry, wrapping the satiny fabric around my cock. I stroke harder, my free hand rolling my balls. "Gonna cum, Carlisle."

That's all it takes to convince me. That he's in it to stay, that he's as turned on by this as I am. It's something he wants too, something he fantasizes about too.

"Carlisle?" I ask later, my voice scratchy and sleepy.

"Yeah?" he says, sounding just as tired.

"When you get back, I wanna buy you lunch."

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><p>We do it a week later, on a Thursday.<p>

He meets me downtown, between the hospital and my office, at Dean's Steakhouse. It's the kind of place where men come to have three martini lunches and pay with a corporate credit card.

Carlisle's wearing a charcoal gray suit, nothing too fancy-he doesn't give a shit about designers, he says, but he likes the way I look in my clothes. I'm wearing a black, close-cut Versace, just like he requested, with a blood red tie and matching pocket square. He was right, we blend in here just fine.

Except... if anyone were looking closely, he might see the way Carlisle rests his hand on my lower back before I slide into the booth. Or the way my foot slides over to his side under the table, my ankle locking with his.

He doesn't say anything about the fantasy. He's told me a few times that he doesn't expect me to do it, that he was just talking, but it's my fantasy now, too.

All through lunch, I catch Carlisle narrowing his eyes at my striped oxford shirt, trying to discern if there's anything beneath. He slips off his wingtip and wiggles his toes up underneath my pant leg, feeling for stockings.

When the waiter clears our dishes, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. Carlisle gets distracted with his BlackBerry, and I slip out the front door of the restaurant. I dodge cars to cross the street quickly, and once I'm safely in the hotel lobby I text Carlisle the picture I took earlier along with a short message-"Westin hotel, room 435."

I take the next elevator car and imagine him opening the message, flushing red as he takes in the provocative picture I took before I put on my suit. Carlisle's probably mentally cursing out the waiter, wanting the check to be taken care of faster so he can get to me.

I open the door to the hotel room I checked into before lunch and strip off my clothes, carefully hanging up the jacket, shirt, and trousers. There's a full-length mirror on the wall, and I stop to study my reflection. The corset is a deep pink color, wrapped tightly around my torso. A few inches of skin are exposed between the bottom of the corset and the matching garter belt and panties. Black ribbons attach the garter belt to a pair of sheer, silky stockings.

My cock is hard already, threatening to escape the tiny scrap of black lace between my legs. I squeeze it and shift the fabric around, trying to stay covered... at least until Carlisle gets here. I'm ripping the comforter off the bed and tossing it to the floor when I hear the knock at the door.

I rush to open it, knowing that he's on the other side, waiting and wanting me. My heart is pounding as I slide the deadbolt and pull the door open slowly, peeking out cautiously to be sure no one else is in the hallway.

It's just Carlisle. Breathless, panting-he must've run across the street-and flustered. I pull the door open wide, lean against it, and watch as his eyes roam my figure from top to bottom.

"Hey," I tell him, suddenly self-conscious.

"Damn," he breathes, loosening the tie around his neck.

"What do you think?" I ask, stepping back, away from the hallway. He follows, closing the door behind him, and shrugs his jacket off. It falls to the floor and he abandons it there, stalking forward as I back up further into the room.

When I reach the full length mirror again, Carlisle reaches out to grab my wrist. He pulls me close, pressing his chest against my back and turning me to face the mirror. "Look at you," he says, resting his chin on my shoulder. His hands roam my sides, smoothing over the pink satin and down to the lacy garter belt.

I moan and lean back against him, watching his hands move over me. He slips his finger under the edge of the corset, moving it back and forth painfully slowly. My stomach muscles clench and tremble under his touch, and my left hand moves to wrap around my dick.

"You're so hard," he says, his eyes watching my hand in the mirror. I push back against him, grinding my ass into his own erection, and he smiles in acknowledgement before kissing my neck.

"God, I want to fuck you, just like this," he whispers, gently pushing me forward until my forehead is almost touching the glass. I brace myself with my forearms and lock eyes with him through the mirror.

"There's lube on the nightstand," I tell him. He's still kissing me tenderly, dragging his lips up the nape of my neck. "Carlisle? Hurry."

He grins, pulling at his belt as he turns away from me. I hear the shuffling of fabric of the thump of his belt and wallet hitting the floor as he takes off his pants; when he returns to me he's just wearing his button-down shirt, open in the front so I can see the well-defined muscles of his stomach and chest.

"God, I want you," I tell him, shuffling backwards so I'm at a better angle for him. He toys with the eye hook closures on my corset and my garter belt, but leaves everything on.

"You look amazing, Edward," he says, slipping his fingers underneath the satin panties covering my ass. He pulls the fabric to the side and pushes a slick finger into me. Even while his left hand prepares me for his cock, his right hand doesn't stop slipping and sliding over the satin corset. He slips his fingers underneath the empty cups and pinches my nipples, earning a loud whimper. "Too much?" he says.

"No, feels good," I promise, moving back against his hand. "It all feels so good."

"Touch your cock," he says, adding another finger. I slide my hand down over the corset and move it underneath my panties, but Carlisle stops me. "No, through the fabric."

"Fuck," I mutter, circling the wet spot on the front of the satin with my thumb. I grip my cock through the fabric, my hand sliding easily over my shaft.

He spends ages getting me ready and refuses to fuck me until I'm begging for it.

"Can I take these off?" he asks, snapping the waistband of the panties against my skin.

"Not without taking off the garters," I answer, reaching down for the clips holding up my stockings. Carlisle bats my hand away and pulls down my panties regardless, leaving them bunched at my thighs. "Yes," I plead, drawn in by the sight in front of me-satin and silk and lace, delicate pretty things and my hard, heavy cock hanging between my legs. Carlisle's lean body behind me, his eyes locked on the movement of his hand between our bodies.

"God, I want you," he says, pulling his hand away. The foil crinkles, Carlisle groans a little as he rolls the condom down his cock, and then he's _right there_ and I need him _so fucking much._

"Edward," he sighs, pushing into my ass slowly, patiently.

"Don't go slow," I beg, my fingers clawing ineffectively at the glass.

"Shhh," he soothes, gripping my shoulder with his free hand. He thrusts a little harder, building up the speed gradually, adding more lube as he goes.

We don't talk this time. No dirty words, no whispers of _You wanna get on top? _or _Fuck, that's good._ Just the sound of Carlisle's even, heavy breathing and my higher-pitched whimpers and moans.

I'm having a hard time keeping myself upright-my arms are slick with sweat now, and they keep slipping down the glass. My legs are shaking and I'm relying more and more on Carlisle's arm, wrapped around my waist.

"Can we-oh, fuck..." I moan, touching my forehead to the mirror. "Can we move to the bed?" I ask, as soon as I can catch my breath.

Carlisle pulls out of me reluctantly and leads me to the bed, pushing me down onto my back. He leans over me, kissing and sucking at my neck, and tries to crawl between my legs. I'm bound by the panties around my thighs, though, and can't open my legs wide enough to accommodate him.

He reaches down with two hands, grabs the crotch of my panties and moves to rip them.

"Are you crazy?" I pant, pushing his hands away. "These are _La Perla_," I explain, reaching down to unclip the garters from my stockings. He chuckles as I wiggle out of the pink satin panties and kick them to the floor. Now when he grips my thigh and pushes it to the side, my legs open for him like they were meant to.

He slides back inside me easily, hitching my leg up over his hip. "God, these stockings," he mumbles, dragging his fingertips up and down over my thigh. "You are so sexy, Edward. So hot."

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down close to me for a kiss. I let my eyes close as he fucks me hard, focusing on the sensations-the push and pull of Carlisle's cock in my ass, the textures of the satin and lace rubbing against my body, even the tickle of the clips on my garter belt bouncing against my legs.

"So close," I whine, reaching down between us. Carlisle rears up, putting all of his energy into fucking me, and I feel it start to happen as soon as I wrap my hand around my dick. The tension in my body centers in my stomach, and all of my muscles get tighter and tighter until finally, I feel my cock start twitching in my hand.

Carlisle roars, slamming into me when he sees me pulling my orgasm out of my dick. "So. Fucking. Hot," he groans, thrusting into me hard a few more times before he finally stills, his face all scrunched up in pleasure as he comes.

When we're both spent, when we're reduced to a pile of exhausted flesh and sweaty lingerie, he pulls out of me carefully and flops onto his back.

"Wow," I whisper.

"Yeah," he replies, reaching over to clasp my hand in his. We lie still for a few minutes, panting and pulling ourselves back together, before we remember that we both have to go back to work at some point. He gets up to dispose of the condom and starts a hot shower before coming back to kiss me again. He picks my panties up off the floor and twists the fabric in his hands, examining them.

"Edward?" he asks, a grin spreading over his face.

"Hmmm?" I answer, still floating from my toe-curling orgasm. I look up to meet his eyes and feel so incredibly grateful for what I find there-acceptance, arousal, and lust. I'm so glad that I found someone that I can really be myself with... someone who's this excited about it, no less.

"I don't know what the fuck _La Perla_ is, but we're going shopping there this weekend."

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><p><strong>Please drop me a line and let me know what you think. :)<strong>

**If you like the idea of Edward in panties, check out SarahAH30's The Underwear Chronicles:**

**s/6811966/1/**

**If you know of any others, leave a title in your review. ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I spend a lot of time on the twitter, and sometimes people suggest/dare me to write things, and I laugh and say, "If I had time, I would." **

**And then sometimes I spend all weekend in my pajamas writing. **

**So if you enjoy this please thank conversedcullen and donnersun. Bitches owe me $4.00.**

**PS: This was my picspiration, as provided by conversed: bit. ly /edwardinpanties**

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><p>CPOV<p>

I let myself in, smiling at the weight of the keychain in my hand. It's a little heavier since my birthday last month-Edward's gift was a thick, silver Cartier key fob. with one single key attached. I still knock first, but he doesn't bother answering-he likes it when I use my key.

"Babe?" I call, peeking into his living room. I stash the gift I've brought for him in the hall closet, tucking the small bag behind his winter coat. I plan on giving it to him later, after the evening is over. I straighten the cuffs on my tux as I make my way through Edward's apartment, looking for him.

"Ed?" I say, looking in the kitchen and the dining room. His silence has me worried and I move quickly down the hall to his bedroom. "There you are," I sigh, relieved to find him sitting on his bed.

Except... he's not okay. He's sitting in just his boxers and a t-shirt, staring at the freshly pressed Gucci tuxedo hanging from his closet door.

"Edward?" I ask, stepping into the room. He jumps to his feet and presses his hand to his heart.

"Jesus!" he gasps. "Oh, God, Carlisle. I didn't hear you come in."

"I'm sorry, babe. Are you okay?" I ask, moving closer. I reach out, wrap my arm around his waist, and try to pull him closer, but he's stiff and unyielding in my arms.

"Yeah, yeah," he says, turning towards his closet. He smooths his hand over the lapel of his beautiful tuxedo, pretending to study it, but I can see his other hand shaking at his side.

"Come on, don't lie to me," I insist. I follow him and wrap my arms around his waist from behind, pulling him flush against my chest. "What's up?"

"Nothing, really. I'm just nervous," he admits, relaxing against me. "God, you smell good."

I chuckle and kiss his neck, inhaling his own clean, fresh scent. "We've talked about this, honey," I remind him. "There's nothing to be nervous about."

He whirls around in my arms and rests his head on my shoulder, slipping his arms beneath my jacket.

"I just don't see why I couldn't meet your parents at like... brunch, or something. Someplace normal. Not a huge formal gala for their anniversary," he says, wild strands of his hair tickling my chin as he talks.

"Well, it's not huge, and it's not a gala. You're exaggerating. It's just a... formal party. In a small hotel ballroom. There won't be more than fifty or sixty people there, I promise." I pull away and kiss his forehead before lifting his chin so we're eye to eye. "Besides, this way they'll only get to spend a few minutes grilling you, as opposed to two solid hours. They'll have other guests to attend to."

"You think?" he says, skeptical.

"I know," I assure him, before leaning in to kiss him soundly on the lips. "Plus, they're going to love you. Obviously."

"Yeah," he says, grinning. "You're probably right."

I give him a teasing spank on his backside and walk to his dresser to fiddle with his bottles of cologne. "What are you so nervous about, anyway? I bet parents always love you."

"That's just it," he says, reaching for the crisp white shirt hanging neatly with his tux. "I, um, don't really do the whole 'meeting the parents' thing."

"Oh," I respond, taking in his admission. I'm distracted by the flex of his lean muscles as he shrugs the shirt on, the grace of his long fingers as he nimbly buttons it up. "So, wait, you mean you don't do this very often?"

"No," he says, turning to face me. "I don't do it. Ever. I've never met a boyfriend's family." We stare each other down until I break first, crossing the room to pull him into a tight hug.

"Well let me give you some advice," I tell him, cupping the back of his neck with my hand. "Just be yourself. They'll love you, I promise."

He pulls away and rolls his eyes at me, turning to reach for his tuxedo pants. "If this were a trial or negotiation, I'd be fine," he mutters. My eyes automatically move to his ass as he bends to step into his pants, and I'm struck by the conservative boxers he's wearing.

"Wait," I blurt out, reaching out to rest a hand on the small of his back.

"What?" he asks, straightening up and turning to look at me.

"What you said about the courtroom... didn't you tell me that you always wear lingerie when you go to court? Or if you have a big negotiation?" Edward's cheeks start to flush as I get excited about my idea. I cup his cheeks and continue in a rush. "You should put on some panties, babe. Or stockings or something."

"I don't know..." he says, shaking his head slowly. "Wouldn't that be wrong? For a family thing?"

"It's not like you're going to show anyone," I tell him, shrugging my shoulders. "If it makes you feel confident, then I want you to."

"Maybe," he says, his eyes flickering over to his dresser, to the drawer full of silk and lace.

"Just wait here for a second, okay?" I ask, kissing his cheek before I dart out of the room. When I first stumbled upon Edward's stash of lingerie, I was surprised but open to it-I was already falling for him and wasn't going to let his choice of underwear fuck up our new relationship. As I processed what I saw and what Edward confessed about wearing panties, garters, and the like, I realized I wasn't at all uncomfortable with his kink. What I didn't realize, though-what I couldn't know until I saw him wrapped in silk for the first time-was how much I would get off on it, too.

It's been months since the first time he let me see him that way. I'm pretty comfortable admitting now that his kink is my kink, too. I love slipping my fingers beneath the waistband of his pants to feel for lace or silk. I love it when he sends me pictures in the middle of the work day, just quick snapshots from his phone of a flash of pink or ivory beneath one of his tailored suits. Above all, I love surprising him with new underwear and watching him try it on.

I retrieve the little pink bag I stashed in his closet earlier and hurry back to the bedroom. He grins when he sees what I'm holding.

"What could that be, Dr. Cullen?" he asks, cocking one eyebrow.

"Oh, I did some shopping this morning," I tell him, setting the bag down on his dresser. I reach in, wrap my fingers around the tiny scrap of fabric, and pull it out with a flourish.

Edward gasps and takes a step forward.

"I saw these, babe, and I thought they would look so good on you..." I admit, holding the panties out to him in offering. He takes them from me and rubs the fabric between his thumb and index finger. They're small and delicate, a blush pink color, and the fabric is see-through-it's like a delicate netting, with a few tiny embroidered flowers.

"They're perfect," he breathes.

"Do you want to wear them tonight?" I ask, keeping my tone light so he doesn't feel coerced.

"Hell yeah," he says, leaning in close to me for a kiss. I wrap my arms around his waist and tug him closer until I can feel his cock pressing against my hip. I pull away, chuckling at Edward's enthusiasm.

"You better calm down, babe, or you won't be able to get them on," I tease, slipping a hand between our bodies to palm his erection.

"Dammit, Carlisle," he groans, thrusting against my hand. "Maybe we should just stay here."

"Nope, we gotta go. I'm gonna go wait in the living room so you can get this under control," I tease, squeezing his cock once before I pull my hand away. He grumbles as I leave the room, but I turn back and see the smile on his face as he shucks his boxer shorts.

* * *

><p>We're fashionably late to the party, so my parents are already in full mingling mode when we arrive.<p>

"Should we get a drink first?" Edward asks, tugging me towards the bar.

"Nope, we're gonna rip the band-aid right off," I tease, leading him to the center of the room. My parents finish chatting with a couple I don't recognize and turn to greet us.

"Carlisle! I'm so glad you're here," Mom says, leaning forward to kiss my cheek.

"Happy Anniversary," I tell them, kissing her cheek in return. "Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Edward Masen," I say, resting my hand on the small of Edward's back. He smiles easily and reaches out to shake hands with both of my parents.

"Lovely to meet you, Edward," my mother says with a giggle. I raise my eyebrow at Dad who sighs and rolls his eyes-apparently Mom's already a little tipsy.

"Edward," my father says, his arm tight around Mom's waist. "Carlisle tells us you're an attorney?"

"Yes, Sir," Edward replies. "I'm downtown, at Waters, Whitlock, and Masen." A waiter passes by with a tray of champagne glasses, and Edward reaches for one at the same time as my mother. I smile at Dad as he shakes his head in resignation; she is going to be three sheets to the wind with one more drink. Mom rarely drinks alcohol and the results are always hilarious when she does.

"A partner, really? At your age?" Dad asks, returning his attention to Edward.

"Yes, Sir. For two years now," Edward tells him, grinning.

"Marcy!" my mom shouts. "Marcy Peterson!" She waves her arm frantically as one of her friends from her gardening club makes her way across the room.

"Eve, darling, you look wonderful," Mrs. Peterson says, leaning in to kiss Mom's cheek.

"Thank you!" Mom giggles, turning her head coquettishly. "Marcy, honey, come meet Carlisle's gay boyfriend, Edward."

Edward nearly chokes on his champagne, but Mrs. Peterson isn't phased. "Lovely to meet you, Edward," she says, shaking his hand politely before she hurries off to catch up with her husband.

"Mom, you don't need to say '_gay_ boyfriend'," I remind her.

"Well you simply can't say _partner_ these days, because there are all sorts of _partners._ Tennis partners! Business partners! All sorts. And saying _lover_ is just crass, darling," she tells me, reaching out to straighten my collar.

"Right, but I think just 'boyfriend' will get the job done," I tell her.

"Maybe we ought to find some hors d'oeuvres, get you something to eat," my dad says, turning to lead mom towards one of the tables set up along the side of the room. He relieves her of her champagne glass and quietly hands it to me as they walk away.

"Wow," Edward says, exhaling slowly as he leans against my side. "So I'm your gay boyfriend?" he asks.

"Damn straight," I tell him, swallowing the last of the champagne in one long sip.

"Your mother is-"

"Drunk?" I interrupt, grinning.

"I was going to say _delightful_," Edward teases, sipping his own glass of champagne.

"She is," I tell him. "Honestly, she only drinks once or twice a year. She just gets a little... silly. Dad will get some food and water in her and she'll be fine."

"I think I'd rather see what happens when she has another glass," Edward says with a wink.

"Just wait 'til Thanksgiving," I tell him. "She drinks all day while she cooks, so by the time we're ready for dinner she's telling dirty jokes and flashing Dad when she thinks no one else is looking."

"You're going to bring your gay boyfriend home for Thanksgiving?" Edward asks. His tone is light, but his eyes lock with mine, searching for reassurance.

"Of course," I tell him, cupping his cheek. He leans into my hand, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Can we go home now?" he whispers.

"Soon," I promise. "I have to show you off a little bit first, okay? Let's go schmooze some old folks."

* * *

><p>Two hours later, I've lost him. He's sitting at a table with my dad, Marcy Peterson's husband, and a few other guys from their poker group. They're telling loud stories about mutual acquaintances-lawyers Ed knows from work that my dad and his friends know from their country club. I've been talking to random strangers and friends of my parents on my own, but I'm ready to go home now. Unfortunately, every time I catch Edward's eye and give him our "let's get out of here" signal (a tug on the earlobe), he ignores me.<p>

When I've run out of old folks to impress, I approach their table with my valet ticket in my hand.

"Edward? I think we should probably get going," I tell him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Sure, Car. In a few minutes," he says, patting my hand dismissively. He's listening, rapt, to Mr. Peterson talk about his new Ferrari.

I lean in close, so my lips brush against his ear, and whisper, "_Now_. I can't wait one more minute to get you home and see you in those panties."

"Gentlemen," Edward announces, standing abruptly and buttoning his jacket. "It's been a pleasure."

They all raise their glasses and wish us a good evening, and I usher Edward out as they call out invitations for us to join them at the country club.

"Dear God, man," I tease, reaching for Edward's hand as we wait for the valet to return with my car. "I thought you were going to sit there all night and become a permanent part of my dad's inner circle."

"They did invite me to play poker with them," he admits, reaching up to undo the bowtie at his neck. He lets it hang there, untied, and unbuttons his collar.

"No, you're forbidden from poker night. My dad is _not_ stealing my boyfriend," I tease, tugging him close by the ends of his bow tie and kissing him softly.

"No way," he says, smiling against my lips. "My nights are for you."

"Damn straight," I tell him, kissing the corners of his mouth. The valet pulls up and we break apart to slide into the car.

It's a short drive, but Edward teases me the whole time-resting his hand on my thigh, adjusting his cock while moaning softly, leaning over the center console to kiss me senseless at red lights.

By the time we're home, I'm painfully hard and dying to get him naked. Well, almost naked.

I tug him up the stairs and into his apartment, past the living room and into his bedroom. "Take that jacket off," I tell him, taking off my own and hanging it on the doorknob. I kick off my shoes and sit on his bed, reclining against his headboard and palming my dick through my pants as Edward complies.

"What else?" he asks, his voice hoarse with want.

"The shirt," I tell him. He starts to lift his arms so he can slip the shirt off over his head, but I correct him sharply. "The buttons. Do it slowly." It's so fucking hot watching him undress when I know what's beneath his clothes.

He works the buttons slowly, slipping his fingers down the front of the shirt inch by inch until it's completely unbuttoned. He turns away from me and slides it down over his shoulders, past his arms, and over his hands. It falls in a pile at his feet and he turns to look over his shoulder at me, awaiting my instruction.

"The t-shirt," I tell him. "Turn around and face me, though."

He pulls it up slowly, revealing his pale, lean torso, defined pecs, and the tight little nipples that I love. The t-shirt, too, falls to the floor, and then Edward takes the initiative to peel off his socks and toss them aside. He straightens up and fingers the buttons at his waist, his pants the last barrier to what I really want to see.

"Are you hard?" I ask, watching as his fingers scratch lightly at the sensitive skin just above his waistline.

"So hard," he tells me.

"Come a little closer," I beg. "Take them off."

He steps forward and I reach over to his nightstand, turning on the lamp there for a little more light. Edward flinches at the brightness, but it doesn't stop his fingers from loosening his pants and pushing them down over his hips.

My intention was just to watch, to tease, but as soon as I see him in those tiny sheer panties, I can't stop myself from going to him. I jump up from the bed and reach out for him, groaning as his flings himself into my arms.

"You look so fucking hot," I whisper, sliding my hands over the smooth muscles of his back, down over the sheer fabric covering his ass.

"They feel so good," he responds, burying his face in my neck. "The texture is just... fuck, Carlisle," he moans, responding to my fingers teasing his hole beneath the fabric.

His fingers clutch at my shoulders as I tease him there, just circling without pressing inside. I cup his cheeks, too, squeezing and scraping my blunt nails over his skin. When I pull my hands away after only a few minutes of teasing, he whines and presses his body against me, desperate for more.

"Get on the bed," I direct, my tone softer now that he's in my arms. He scrambles up onto the bed, resting on his hands and knees and looking back at me over his shoulder. I tear at my clothes, pulling them off swiftly and without any fanfare, before I kneel on the bed beside him. "No, on your back, Ed," I correct him, laying a hand on his side to feel the muscles twist as he turns over and flops down onto the bed.

He looks up at me with his lips parted, his neck exposed, and his chest heaving-every part of him is so appealing that I have no idea where to start kissing him.

"Just kiss me," he begs, reading my mind. He reaches up and tugs me down over his body, sealing his mouth to mine in a heated kiss. He bends his knee and wraps one leg around my body, pulling me even closer, and I feel my naked cock grinding against Edward's through his panties.

When he tilts his head back, pulling away to breathe, I take the opportunity to scoot lower and attack his neck with kisses. Chaste little pecks at first, and then long, sucking kisses. I lick from the base of his throat all the way up to his chin, stopping to swirl my tongue around his Adam's apple as he groans and bucks his hips up into me.

I follow my trail back down and move lower, covering his flushed chest with kisses and humming against his skin. My fingers find his tight, flat nipples and tease them until he squirms. I love how sensitive he is there; I make him shudder and gasp when I cover his nipple with my mouth and tap it with my tongue. He cries out my name when I switch to the other side, nibbling gently and tugging the small bud with my teeth.

"Carlisle! Jesus!" he shouts, his hand cupping the back of my neck. He holds me against his torso, whimpering as I move back and forth between his nipples. When his hips start moving rhythmically, desperately against mine, though, I pull away and continue kissing down his torso. His back arches as I reach the ticklish area on his stomach, swiping my tongue over the flat muscles there. "Please, please," he whines, pushing on my shoulders, begging me to move on.

I pull back then, sitting up on my knees between Edward's wantonly spread legs. I drink him in, taking the time to commit this sight to memory-his body trembling with desire, his neck and chest covered in red marks from my kisses and bites. His cock straining against the sheer panties he's been wearing for me all night.

I reach out with just one finger and trace the waistband, the pretty lace edging around his legs, the tiny bow a few inches below his belly button.

"So pretty," I tell him, slipping a finger beneath the waistband. "Do you like your pretty new panties?"

"God, yes," he sighs.

"And this is so big, so hard," I whisper, squeezing his dick lightly as my fingers slip further beneath the fabric. "It barely fits."

"Yes," he whispers, his voice growing more hoarse. I stroke him harder now, stretching the panties as I move beneath them.

"Do you want me to suck your cock?" I ask, looking up at his face, smiling as he moans and squirms.

"If you do, I'll cum," he warns, pushing his hips up, his cock hot and twitching under my palm.

I grin and ignore his warning, pulling my hand out of his panties and dropping down to my hands and knees. I can tell he wants me to wait, to make him cum while I fuck him, but sometimes I like seeing Edward fall apart without the distraction of holding back my own orgasm.

He seems to forget his objections when I lower my mouth to his cock and drag my tongue up its length, laving him through the fabric. I wrap my lips around the head and suck it into my mouth, earning a low whine from Edward, but I don't give him enough attention to really get him off. Instead I focus on exploring every inch of him, alternating between small, sweet kisses and longer licks.

He mostly keeps his hands to himself until I drop down a little lower. I purse my lips and blow warm air over his balls before sucking one slowly into my mouth through the thin, gauzy fabric.

"Holy shit!" Edward cries, lifting himself up on his elbows so he can see what I'm doing. I lock eyes with him, slowly releasing him before moving to wrap my lips around the other side. "Oh God, Carlisle, please touch me," he whines, reaching down to cover his cock with one hand. I bat it away and wrap my fingers around him, still working him through his panties, and start to stroke him steadily.

He doesn't last much longer-with my mouth on his sac and my hand fisting his cock, he would be overstimulated even without the silky underwear adding an extra layer to his arousal. "Gonna cum," he warns me, his hand clamping down over my neck and holding me tightly against him. I lick and suck and pump his cock until he's calling my name and twitching in my hand, hot spurts soaking the thin fabric of his panties and leaking through onto my skin.

"Carlisle," he rasps, gasping as I stroke him through his orgasm and milk his cock until it starts to soften in my hand. I kiss back up his body, pressing my lips tenderly against every inch of skin as he trembles beneath me.

"Hi," I whisper, kissing his lips softly when I reach his face.

"Wow," he whispers back, still trying to catch his breath. "You are too good to me," he says, smiling up at me.

"No way," I argue, settling on my side next to him. I not-so-subtly press my erection against his hip, rocking against him slowly to relieve the ache. "I finally find the perfect man, I gotta keep him happy."

"Perfect?" he asks, reaching down to brush his fingers up the length of my dick.

"Mmmhmm. Handsome, smart, looks great in satin... what more could I ask for?" Edward grins and pushes me onto my back, crawling over me so he can take control.

"I can think of one thing you could ask for," he teases, straddling me and grinding his ass down against my cock.

"Fuck," I whine, letting my body relax and focus on my own pleasure. "Can I fuck you?"

"Yeah," he says, wiggling his ass against me. "Do you want me to keep these on?"

"Fuck yeah," I tell him, reaching into his nightstand for the lube and condoms he keeps stashed there. "Lay down, babe," I prompt him, pulling him down so his chest is pressed against mine. He laughs and kisses my neck and my shoulder while I push his panties aside and get him ready with my fingers.

"Feel good?" I ask, pushing three fingers in and out slowly, making sure he's prepared for my thick cock.

"Mmm, yeah," he whispers. "So good." He sighs into my shoulder, nuzzling me there and kissing me softly.

I fumble with the condom, trying to apply it without making Edward move so I can see my cock. It goes on smoothly and I add more lube, groaning with pleasure as I stroke myself to make sure the condom's on tightly.

"Sit up, babe?" I ask, grinning as Edward kisses me once more before sitting upright over my body. He lifts up on his knees and scoots back a little, lining himself up with my cock. I hold his panties to the side and slide my dick back and forth between his cheeks, teasing his hole. When I can't take it anymore, I hold myself steady and let Edward control the pace-he slides down over me mercifully quickly, taking only a few seconds to adjust before he starts to move.

"Jesus, Edward," I moan, letting go of his panties. I grip both of his hips with my hands and try to slow him down. "It's too much."

"Shh, let me," he says, resting his hands over mine. "Let me fuck you."

I give up trying to control his movements and just try to hold him steady as he moves steadily up and down over my cock.

"Fuck, yeah. Ride me," I encourage him, even as I feel my balls starting to tighten after only a few minutes.

"You feel so good," he breathes, panting with his efforts. "Cum in me, Carlisle, please," he begs, reaching behind him to cup my balls.

I lose myself then, with his warm body enveloping me and his hand cupping my balls at just the right moment. I feel my hands tighten on Edward's hips as I thrust up into him, cursing and groaning as I cum hard. My eyes close automatically with the tension, but I force them open so I can watch Edward's beautiful, triumphant smile as he rocks with me gently while I come down.

Eventually he pulls away, tugging the condom off my waning erection and getting rid of it on his way to the bathroom. I start to doze off, sleepy and sated, but I wake up when Edward returns with a warm washcloth. He cleans the sticky mess of lube and cum from my skin before disappearing again.

When he comes back he nudges me gently until I roll over to "my" side of the bed. "C'mere," I mumble, pulling him close. We're both naked and warm; I love cuddling with him like this. "So did you like your present, baby?"

He chuckles, the vibrations of his throat tickling my arm. "Do you even have to ask?"

* * *

><p><strong>Please leave a review and let me know what you think. xoxo<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the scoop: I have pretty much no time to write these days. It sucks hard. :/ **

**I had pieces of this hanging out on my gdocs though, and I was able to knit them together and add a few bits to make a Valentine's day surprise for my secret valentine (grrlinterrupted did a Secret Cupid thing on twitter for some single gals, it was fun). She got a printed out copy in the mail along with some chocolate. Happy V-Day, Michelle!**

**This is probably the last of these two-it's sort of epilogue-y. We'll see.**

**This is pretty obviously not Twilight.**

* * *

><p>"I just want to stop over here, babe," I tell Carlisle, squeezing his hand and tugging him through the crowd of tourists.<p>

It's a rare sunny day in Seattle, and even though it's a little chilly, we come down to the market early to enjoy the day. We have a quiet breakfast, talk about work, his parents' new vacation house, and the news that our state might legalize gay marriage as soon as next week. After breakfast, we browse the market for a little while. Eventually it starts to get busy, the masses of tourists descending, and I can tell that Carlisle is anxious to get out of here.

He's annoyed at first, when I ask him to stop, but he grins when he sees where we're headed.

"You're such an addict," he teases.

"Do not mock my love of dark chocolate Chukar Cherries." I glare at him as we weave through the crowd, but he just laughs.

"I would never."

He's even patient as I wait in line for my cherries (I can get them anywhere, but they somehow taste better when they come from Pike Place). He presses a kiss to my cheek and wanders around to check out some of the other booths.

I make my purchase and snag a bag of the spiced hazelnuts that Carlisle loves before turning around to find him. He's engrossed in conversation with a cute young guy selling herbs. A _very_ cute young guy, with dirty blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and a very cute bicep that flexes as he places a very cute hand on my boyfriend's forearm.

Oh, hell no.

I make my way to them, elbowing tourists out of the way, and thread my arm through Carlisle's. Cute guy is taken aback, and pulls his hand away quickly.

"Sorry to hold you up, sweetie." I press my side against Carlisle's and tilt my head to kiss his cheek. Carlisle laughs at my blatant display of ownership and pulls his arm free so he can wrap it around my waist.

"No problem, babe."

Cute guy offers Carlisle a business card, but my boyfriend just laughs and waves him off.

"I have everything I need," he says, squeezing my waist.

We leave and walk up the hill towards Carlisle's car, moving against the flow of people walking down to the market. He chuckles to himself, a satisfied smile on his face the whole time.

"You don't have to be so smug about it," I tease, bumping his hip with mine.

"What? Smug? No way. You're just cute when you're jealous."

"I'm not _jealous_," I argue. "I was just letting that dirty hippie know that you're taken, that's all."

"He was just being friendly," Carlisle says, but the glint in his eyes tells me that he knows that's not true. We stay away from the bar scene, so we don't have to put up with a lot of... outside interest. When it does happen, though, Carlisle gets a kick out of my instinctual possessive reaction.

"Whatever," I grumble, narrowing my eyes at him. Carlisle pops open the trunk of his Mercedes, and we drop all of our purchases inside.

"Where to? Home?" Carlisle asks. It's still strange to hear him say that-_home_ instead of _my place _or _your place_. We debated for a long time about keeping his place or mine, but in the end we decided we both wanted a fresh start. Together. _Home_ now is a three-bedroom contemporary house near Green Lake, with a mortgage in both of our names.

"I don't know..." I hesitate, hoping Carlisle will let me shop for a while. "It's such a beautiful day. Maybe we could take a walk? Go up to Fifth Avenue or something? I wouldn't mind just _browsing_ at Gucci..."

"Browsing, huh?" he says, shutting the trunk firmly. "C'mon, let's go. You know I love it when you try on expensive suits."

* * *

><p>I can't bring myself to drop three thousand dollars on the dark gray Marseille suit I try on.<p>

Judging by the way Carlisle is drooling over it, though, I have a feeling I might be seeing it again around my birthday. He buys a new pair of driving moccasins and I pick up a lightweight sweater, perfect for spring, before we walk out into the morning sunshine again.

Carlisle laces his fingers through mine as we stroll casually up the street, window shopping and swinging our Gucci bags happily.

I'm babbling about my latest case at work, complaining about the opposing counsel, when Carlisle stops short. I keep walking, but he stands firm and pulls me back to him.

"What?" I ask, exasperated. I pull my hand free from his and use it to shield my eyes from the sun, looking for whatever has distracted him.

I gasp when I see it.

We're in front of a fine lingerie store, a fancy boutique I've never dared wander into before. Carlisle is mesmerized by the window display, a mannequin in a delicate, cream-colored silk chemise. It's stunning and sexy, a shimmering silk with intricate lace detail at the bust and the hem.

"Wow," I mutter, reaching into my pocket for my phone. I pull it out and snap a few pictures, stepping closer to the glass to see if I can catch the name of the manufacturer.

"What are you doing? Let's go inside," Carlisle says, his hand already on the door. My heart starts racing and I grip his arm, trying to stop him.

"No! We can't go in _there_!" I hiss, nodding towards the interior of the shop. I spend tons of money on lingerie online, and I've even gone to a few stores under the pretense of buying something for my "wife." I've never gone to a boutique like this, though-one where the service is always personalized-and never with my boyfriend in tow.

"Why not?" Carlisle asks, eyes wide with surprise.

"We just can't! They'll talk to us. And they'll know that we're... you know. Together."

"Edward," Carlisle says, reaching up to cup my cheek, "they don't need to know who you're buying it for. We'll just tell them we're browsing."

"They'll just... even if we lie... they'll know," I tell him, pleading with my eyes for him to understand.

"Babe, even if they guess that we're shopping for one of us, it's none of their goddamn business," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's fine. Does it really bother you that much? Because I really, really want to buy that for you." His eyes flicker to the window display.

I hesitate for a minute, but in the end my desire trumps my anxiety.

"Okay," I whisper, shuffling awkwardly.

"Sure?" Carlisle asks.

"Sure." I nudge him forward, and he reaches for the door again. I suck in a deep, calming breath, and follow.

"Hello there!" A small, bubbly woman greets us the second we walk in, stepping away from the display of panties she's organizing. I give Carlisle an _I-told-you-so_ look as she approaches. "I'm Alice. Welcome."

"As in... _Alice's_ Fine Lingerie?" Carlisle asks, referring to the name of the store.

"Exactly," she says, her smile wide as she looks back and forth between us. "What brings you gentlemen in today?"

I feel my cheeks heat up and I walk away, leaving Carlisle to explain.

"Oh, just browsing, thanks," he says. His tone and his body language would deter most sales people, but apparently Alice of Alice's Fine Lingerie is more persistent than most.

"Well, we have some lovely new bra and panty sets from La Perla, and I have some Chantelle pieces on sale on the back table. Who are you shopping for today?" she asks. I'm hiding behind a mannequin, but I can see the impish grin on Alice's face as her eyes flicker back and forth from Carlisle to me.

"Thanks for the information. We'll let you know if we need anything." Carlisle winks at her, and I shake my head. Could he be any more obvious? I turn to the wall in front of me and stare at the tiny thongs on delicate padded hangers lining this wall of the shop. Carlisle and I browse separately for a while, but I keep glancing over my shoulder to check on him-and I catch him doing the same.

"Gucci, huh?" I startle a little and turn around to find Alice behind me, hanging some camisoles on a rack.

"Uh, yeah, we were just there."

"What'd you get?" she asks, bouncing a little on her toes. I chuckle, because I can tell she's a kindred shopper-her eagerness to see my purchases from another store gives her away.

"Just a sweater," I tell her, pulling it out of the bag so she can see.

"Ooooh... I like!" she squeals, brushing her fingers over the wool. "What about your boo?" she asks, jerking her head towards Carlisle, on the other side of the store.

My boo?

I think I like this girl.

"Car, come show her your shoes," I call. He smiles when he sees my relaxed expression, and joins our conversation.

Alice coos over his driving mocs and we chat about Gucci in general for a while, including the cute sales guy who always works the day shift. We bond over Versace, too, and our mutual admiration for Dolce & Gabbana.

"So tell me," Alice says eventually, her eyes sparkling, "what brings a couple of extremely stylish gentlemen like yourselves into a store like mine?"

Carlisle meets my eyes over her head, silently questioning how much I want to reveal. I shrug, feeling much more comfortable here now that we know Alice a little bit.

"We were interested in the window display," he says carefully, feeling her out a little.

"The chemise?" she asks, clapping her hands excitedly. She pushes past Carlisle and reaches for a rack on the wall near the window display. Pausing, she turns back and looks between Carlisle and I. "Large," she says, her eyes on me, "or extra-large?" She looks at Carlisle, appraising his size. He's only slightly bigger than me, but she obviously has a keen eye.

I take a deep breath, because I know this is the last chance I have to lie-I could tell her that I'm buying it for a friend, or as a gag gift, or for some other lame reason. But something in her easy acceptance of Carlisle and apparently, of my love for lingerie, makes me feel safe.

"Large," I tell her confidently. Carlisle's hand slips around my waist, and he squeezes gently.

"Excellent," Alice says, licking her bottom lip as her gaze lingers a little too long on my body. I laugh and duck my face into Carlisle's shoulder. "Gay guys are so fucking hot," Alice mutters, heading back towards us with the cream chemise in her hand. She stops and picks up a red babydoll and a black bustier, gathers the hangers in her hand and passes them to me.

"Dressing room's in the back," she says, nodding her head towards a red velvet curtain at the back of the store.

"Thanks," I breathe, laughing at the soaring, happy feeling of shopping for lingerie without the usual sense of panic and fear of getting caught.

"C'mon," Carlisle says, dragging me towards the back of the store. He tries to follow me into the dressing room, but I know that's a bad idea. Alice might be cool, but she's probably not _that_ cool.

I pull the heavy curtain closed and strip off my boots, my jeans, and my sweater, leaving on just my boxer briefs. I try the black bustier first-it's a little more S&M than what I usually go for, but I'm willing to try it.

It's cute, but it doesn't do anything for me.

I don't _need_ it.

The red babydoll is a little more my style. I feel my heartbeat pick up as I slide the lace over my head, adjust the satin straps, and tug the material down over my ribcage.

"You okay in there?" Carlisle asks, sticking his hand through the curtain to wave at me.

"Mmhmm," I call, turning to look at my backside in the mirror.

"Which one are you trying on?"

"The red one."

"Fuck." I'm not sure if Carlisle meant for me to hear his low epithet, but I do. I can see his feet just under the curtain and I know he's hovering close by. "Can I see?"

I flatten myself against the wall so Alice can't see, then reach out through the curtain to grab Carlisle by the front of his shirt. I pull him into the dressing room and quickly push the curtain closed behind him.

"Oh, Jesus, Ed," Carlisle says, looking me up and down slowly. Sensually. "I want that one. How much is it? Nevermind, don't care. I'm buying it."

He reaches for me just as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Part of me wants nothing more than to crush my body against his and let him ravage me right here.

But another part of me is very, very aware of the cool-but-probably-not-that-cool girl just outside.

"Car, don't start anything you can't finish," I warn him, flattening a palm against his chest.

"Oh, I can finish it," he teases.

"Later!" I tell him, pushing him back through the curtain. He stays close, his feet visible beneath the curtain while I carefully pull off the red nightie and slip it back onto the hanger.

"Are you trying on the other one?" he asks, his voice low and sensual.

"Yeah," I tell him, palming my cock quickly through my boxer briefs before I pull the sexy silk chemise over my head. It's like heaven, the softest silk I've ever felt and somehow, miraculously, exactly the right size. I'm shaking as I adjust the shoulder straps and turn to check out the view from behind.

"Can I see this one too?" Carlisle asks.

I turn again to stare at the delicate lace covering my chest, the soft fall of silk over my torso, the hem that just barely covers me.

It's sexy, but it's something more than that, too. It makes me feel different. Special.

"Not yet," I tell him, swallowing hard against the quiver of excitement in my voice. "I'm gonna get dressed. Go talk to Alice," I tell him.

"Okay. But then we're going straight home," he says, and the growl in his voice tells me we probably won't make it to the bedroom before he's all over me.

* * *

><p>A week later, I'm sitting at my desk at work, picking at a club sandwich while I review a deposition. After our lingerie shopping adventure last weekend, I've barely seen Carlisle-we've both been so busy this week that we keep missing each other in the evenings. I wore the red babydoll for him once, but we haven't had time to dig into the rest of our purchases from that day.<p>

I almost choke on a piece of turkey when Carlisle bursts into my office.

"What's wrong?" I ask immediately, scanning him for injury. He's only been to my office once before, when I stopped by on a Sunday to pick up paperwork. It's Friday afternoon, though, and I have a meeting in half an hour. I thought Carlisle had meetings at the hospital all day, so I'm shocked to see him here.

"Carlisle?" I ask, worry turning to panic as he closes my office door and strides over to my desk. "Carlisle, what's going on?"

He's shaking and smiling, and I stand up, wanting to touch him, hold him. He pushes me back down into my desk chair and turns to my computer, bending over to type something in.

"If you don't tell me what the fuck is happening right now..." I grumble, somewhat appeased by the grin on his face but still worried.

He turns my computer monitor, twists it so I'm facing it head on.

He's pulled up the website for our local NBC affiliate.

"What? The news? The weather? What?" I ask, searching the screen. Carlisle moves the mouse and clicks on the lead story, then steps back as it starts to load.

WASHINGTON STATE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES PASSES GAY MARRIAGE BILL

And suddenly my heart drops to my stomach.

We talked about it last weekend, that this vote was coming up, but I completely forgot that it was happening today. I look up at Carlisle and we lock eyes, and suddenly his smile, his shaking hands, his urgency mean something different.

He leans down, grips the arms of my chair, and kisses me soundly. I can feel his tension, his excitement, and I wrap my hand around the back of his neck to comfort him. I'm shaking, too, and I let out a nervous laugh when he finally pulls his lips away from mine.

He drops his forehead to mine, keeping us connected.

"Edward Masen, will you marry me?"

Even though I knew what he was going to ask-I knew why he was here the second I read the words on my computer screen-it still takes my breath away to hear him say the words.

"Of course I will," I whisper, tilting my head up to capture his lips again. He slumps against me, relieved, and I try to catch him as he slides down to his knees.

"Oh, thank God," he says, resting his head on my lap. I stroke his hair, shaking and laughing from the adrenaline flying through my system.

"Did you think I'd say no?" I tease.

Carlisle looks up and grins, reaching for my hand to lace his fingers through mine.

"No, I just... couldn't wait. I was at lunch and I got a news alert on my iPhone, and my body just went on auto-pilot. I walked all the way here. I just... I didn't let myself think about it too much before. Marriage. Because it wasn't a possibility, you know? But then today... it became a real possibility for me. For us. And I just knew right away that I had to get to you and make it official."

I bend low and kiss him again, moved by his words and his presence. In my office, in my life.

We move to the low couch in my office so we can sit together, touching and talking quietly. Eventually my phone starts ringing and my secretary comes back from lunch. It's hard to believe that we have to go back to real life after having such an intense experience, but our busy schedules never let up.

"I'll be home by seven," he promises, wrapping his arms around my waist as we say goodbye.

"I'll be home by six-thirty," I tell him, waggling my eyebrows. "So I'll be waiting for you."

* * *

><p>We talk about going out for dinner to celebrate, but in the end we stay home and order takeout.<p>

We eat on the couch, Chinese food boxes spread out on the coffee table, and take turns calling friends and family to tell them about our news. Carlisle's mother wins the award for best reaction: "A gay wedding? What could be more fabulous?"

When the food is gone and all the calls have been made, he lies with his head on my lap and we talk quietly about our plans. For our wedding, our future.

It feels surreal, like I've stepped outside my body. I never could have imagined two years ago that I'd find this kind of happiness, that I'd find a man who I loved and trusted this much. That I'd find a man who not only accepted me, but loved me-every bit of me.

"Car? Wanna go to bed?" I ask, smiling down at him. He smirks and sits up, stretching his arms up over his head.

"Yeah. You tired?" he asks, his eyes roaming my body suggestively. I'm still in my work clothes, but my collar is open and my tie is hanging loose around my neck.

"Not so much." I smirk and lean forward to kiss him, but he nods toward the mess of empty takeout containers in front of us.

"I'm gonna clean this up. Why don't you go get undressed. Or..." he trails off, teasing the exposed skin at my neck with his index finger. "Or you could put on something else."

"Hmm." I hum and grab the hand that's teasing me, pulling it up so I can kiss his palm. "We'll see," I tease.

I leave him to clean up and strip off my dress shirt and tie as I walk upstairs. By the time I get to our bedroom, my heart is racing. I pull off the rest of my clothes and toss them on the floor of the closet, kicking them out of the way so I can rifle through my lingerie drawers. (Drawers-plural. The days of keeping a few pieces shamefully hidden under old sweatshirts are long gone.)

I pull different pieces out, holding them up to my body and then tossing them on the floor. I start to panic as I move through my collection, dropping things at my feet as I search for the _right_ thing, the _perfect_ thing to wear.

Nothing seems right-nothing seems special enough for a night like this-until I remember the beautiful silk and lace slip that Carlisle bought for me last weekend. It's on the floor next to my dresser, still in the bag, folded neatly in tissue paper and waiting to be worn.

I unfold it carefully, reveling in the silk slipping through my fingertips. I tug it on over my head and smooth it over my torso, trying to ignore the way my cock is already hard and pushing the hem out from my body.

I slip the matching panties on over my legs and tug them up slowly. They're skimpy, smaller than anything else I have, and there's no way my erection will fit inside. I turn to the mirror lining the back wall of the walk-in closet and adjust myself. It looks kind of obscene, but also really fucking hot.

"Beautiful," I hear. I jump at the sound of Carlisle's voice and let the hem of the chemise fall to cover my panties. "You look so sexy, Edward."

When I turn to face him, I gasp.

It still surprises me. The fire, the hunger in his eyes when he sees me dressed in something soft, pretty, silky.

He stalks forward, dodging the pile of lingerie I've left on the floor, and wraps his arms around me. He makes me wait for a kiss, keeping his lips from me as his hands roam my body, shifting the silk over my sides and my lower back. His hand dips lower, to the scrap of fabric that covers my ass, and he hums in pleasure.

When he finally gives in and drops his head to mine, kissing me passionately, I can barely hold myself up. I fall back against the mirror and Carlisle moves with me, pressing me up against the cool glass. His kisses are hungry and demanding, his hands insistent and consuming.

It's always intense with Carlisle, but I've never once seen him this fired up.

I try to show him that I'm in this too, that I'm right there with him. I push my fingers through his hair, pull at the buttons of his shirt, scratch the back of his neck with my fingernails. "Fuck, Edward. You're so soft," he says, stroking my ribcage.

It strikes us both as funny at the same time, and we laugh and stare into each others' eyes.

"Not completely," I tease, tilting my hips up to meet his. This time when he kisses me it's soft, loving.

"C'mere," he says, grabbing my hand and leading me towards the door to our bedroom.

He stops short, though, when his bare feet meet the pile of satin and lace on the floor.

"I'll clean it up later," I tell him, pushing him backwards so he can take me to bed. He grins and rests a hand on my shoulder, keeping me in place.

"Stay here," he says, kissing my cheek.

I humor him, rubbing the lace hem of my chemise between my fingers as I hear him fumbling around in the bedroom.

"Hi," he says, stepping into the doorframe a minute later. He's naked now, stroking his cock idly, but for some reason he looks like the cat that ate the canary. I cock my head in question and he grins, holding up a bottle of lube.

"Mmm, good idea. Bed?" I ask, taking a step forward. He moves quickly, meeting me before I can make any progress.

He doesn't answer, just presses his lips to my neck. He trails kisses from one side to the other, stopping to suck lightly at my Adam's apple and make me shiver. From there his lips skim down my chest, through the sparse hair and over the lacy cups of my slip. He sucks my nipple into his mouth, licking through the fabric, and I moan and pull him closer.

He keeps moving lower, pressing his open mouth to my stomach and warming the cool silk with his breath. By the time he drops to his knees, my legs are shaking and I have to steady myself by leaning against the dresser.

"This looks... fuck, Edward," he whispers, stroking my cock through the fabric. When he lifts the hem to see it straining the tiny panties, he whimpers and drops his forehead to my thigh. "This looks so hot. My god."

He kisses my thighs, my belly, my hips, teasing and torturing. He avoids the places I want his lips the most-specifically the head of my cock, peeking out of the waistband of my panties. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and try to guide him, pull him closer to where I need him, but he stubbornly avoids giving in.

"Please, baby," I whisper.

"Come here," he says, grabbing my hand and tugging me to the floor so we're kneeling, face to face. I try to push him onto his back so I can climb on top, but he's not having it-he wants to be in control tonight.

He moves out of the way and carefully pushes me forward until I'm on my hands and knees, surrounded by silk and satin. He's behind me now, his fingers skating up the backs of my thighs, moving higher and dragging the hem of my chemise up and over my ass.

"Stop teasing." I turn and stare at him over my shoulder, pleading with my eyes for some relief. He smirks and hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties, yanks them roughly down over my ass and leaves them bunched around my thighs.

"Teasing? Me? Never," Carlisle says, ghosting his fingers over my crack. I growl and flex my wrists, adjusting my position. It's hard not to slip and slide on the shiny fabric beneath me. I struggle to stay upright as Carlisle drizzles the lube between my cheeks, pushing and spreading it around in long strokes and little circles.

When he pushes a finger inside, my arms start to shake.

When he adds a second, I drop down to my elbows.

By the time he's fucking me steadily with his fingers, I'm moaning and pushing back against him, so ready to be filled completely. My cheek is pressed against the floor, flushed and warm against the rough lace of my favorite boyshorts (the blue ones Carlisle bought for my birthday last year).

He pulls his fingers away and presses his body against mine, curving over my spine and dropping his head down to my neck. I can feel his chest pressed against my back through the thin fabric, and his hard, heavy dick between my cheeks.

"I love you," I murmur.

"I love you, too." He rests his arm on top of mine and threads our fingers together, peppering my shoulders with kisses.

"Feels so good, baby. But I want you..." I lift up on trembling forearms and turn my head to kiss him deeply, nipping at his bottom lip and sucking his tongue into my mouth.

"Mmm," he moans, shifting so he can slip a hand between us. He drags his cock purposefully through my crack now, circling around my hole. "Here? You want me here?"

"Please," I sigh, dropping down to my elbows again.

Carlisle can be as forceful as he is tender. He pushes inside, fast and relentless, filling me until his hips are flush against my ass. When he starts to move, he doesn't wait for me to adjust, or start with slow, shallow strokes-he _fucks_ me. Hard.

I'm panting and clutching fruitlessly at the lingerie scattered all over the floor, the silk covering my chest slipping and sliding against the fabric beneath me. Carlisle doesn't stop, doesn't let up for a second, just fills me over and over and holds me steady with firm hands at my waist.

It's almost too soon when he growls, "I need you to cum, Edward." I don't know if I can get there on my own, but It turns out that I don't have to-Carlisle wraps an arm around me and strokes my cock, matching the rhythm of his movements.

"Yeah," I whine, feeling the tension start to build. I shift my weight to one arm and reach beneath my body with the other, wrapping my fingers around Carlisle's. "There, right there," I beg, my whole body shaking as he starts hitting exactly the right spot.

**It's** perfect, it's exactly what I need. I turn my head and bury my face in the pile of panties beneath me, moaning and screaming into them as my body tenses and finally, finally lets go

Carlisle follows right after, falling forward and sinking his teeth into my shoulder as he cums inside me. "Oh God, Edward. Fuck," he moans, thrusting hard one last time.

We stay just like that, panting, sweaty, and sticky, until Carlisle carefully pulls away. There's no way to avoid a mess, especially since we stopped using condoms, so Carlisle usually jumps up to grab a towel or a washcloth once we're finished.

Tonight, though, he just flops down on the floor next to me.

"Jesus."

"I know," I murmur, elated and exhausted.

Carlisle picks up a pair of black panties with a white streak of cum across the front. "Looks like someone made a mess."

"Hmm, that could stain. Might be hard to get out," I tell him, plucking them from his hand and tossing them behind me.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, turning to his side so he can lean over and kiss me.

"Mmmhmm. I might even have to replace some things..."

"Tomorrow," Carlisle says, pressing his lips to my forehead tenderly. "Tomorrow, we'll go see Alice."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope you liked! Let me know what you think. They're done, right? HEA? I don't think there's much else for these two to do. **

**Come say hi on twitter at sadtomatoFF. **


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